


Order Green

by wickedrum



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Erections, Friendship, M/M, Masturbation, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26793619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: Jaskier is surprised to see Geralt fall off his horse.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 30





	1. Wind and Whirl

**Author's Note:**

> Set: Could be any time, providing Jaskier is travelling with Geralt.
> 
> Disclaimers: What, me? I barely own my knickers. 
> 
> Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier friendship.
> 
> Note: My Geralt is somewhere between Netflix and book!Geralt.

Jaskier wasn’t used to being at the front, leading, not even after acquiring his steed, Pegasus. Not because he did not know the road or anything like that, but because usually he was too wrapped up in his thoughts or invested in a story, and way too used to Geralt taking charge either way, especially after an intense hunt when the Witcher was still high on his potions, hard to engage and to keep up with. For a moment, a bard concluded that it was himself who must’ve fallen behind as he could not see his travel companion ahead. However, Jaskier knew which village they were heading to for collecting payment, so he wasn’t worried about losing Geralt, not till he heard what sounded like Roach neighing from behind him. The bard turned Pegasus around curiously and it seemed that it was Geralt’s horse by the bend behind him after all. A few more steps and it became obvious why as Geralt was lying in a heap beside the mare, unmoving and still unnervingly grey in the face.

The minstrel was beside him in a moment, “where are you injured?” He scrutinised his friend’s form frustratedly, “why didn’t you say something instead of hiding it! Stupid brute!” Jaskier could see no blood anywhere and neither was he aware of any noticeable handicap Geralt had reappeared with after his fight, regardless that the bard was always on the lookout for such a thing given that Geralt was unlikely to complain and give himself away. But at least the Witcher has not shown signs to have hurt himself coming down and did not look otherwise uncomfortable, so much so that Jaskier did a double take and had to check in panic whether his friend was breathing. He concentrated on the lips in doing so and despite having noticed the air going past them in and out, the bard now became worried by how white and bloodless they had gotten.

Slapping his cheeks didn’t work either. It was a cold evening, so Jaskier’s next thought was to keep his travel companion warm if incapacitated so and what better way to do that was there other than body heat. He moved behind the unmoving form and hoisted Geralt’s upper body into his lap, cradling the warrior’s head against his own chest, arms around the Witcher’s neck. “A bath would be nice at this point, it might even wake you up,” Jaskier commented, “I can’t believe this. What the fuck am I supposed to do with you now?” He sighed unhappily, “wake up, will you!” Jaskier dared a stronger slap to Geralt’s cheek that elicited a groan and did finally make his eyes flutter. 

The bard waited till Geralt at long last opened his eyes to find them still dazed, bloodshot and dark. “Can you tell me, what are you doing here on the ground?” Jaskier hoped the Witcher was in a good condition, at least enough to speak.

“What am I doing here on the ground?” Geralt was incredulous himself, but made no attempt to move apart from blinking owlishly, then closing his eyes again as if the action hurt him somehow. 

“You are dizzy, aren’t you?” The younger man made a guess.

“Hmm.” The Witcher took his time till he opened his eyes again, this time only to slits, “what am I doing here draped on your knees?”

“Well, you know, things like that happen when you just faint away all of a sudden.” 

“I did not faint.”

“Sure, then what was that? Even Roach didn’t think it was a show of acrobatics when you fell off her.”

“I think maybe one of the potions was tainted.”

“Tainted in what way? Like, poisonous? Intentionally?”

“No, just a bit off.”

“Off? Wrongly made? Off in what way? Explanation required immediately so I can see what our options are!” Jaskier urged the lethargic Witcher for his own good. 

“It doesn’t feel too bad and that’s all I know. We shall see later.”

“That is not very helpful, or hopeful!” 

Geralt grunted his effort to prop himself up and prove otherwise. “Be useful and help me up into the saddle onto Roach, will you!”

“Yes of course, so you can fall off her again. Sounds like you hurt your head too the last time, huh?”

The Witcher knew there was no point to argue. Jaskier could be just as stubborn as he was. “Unless of course you would be willing to consult a healer? In which case, I don’t mind helping you get there sooner in any way that is possible.” 

The nonverbal noise made by Geralt gave the bard the clue that what he suggested was certainly not the case, not that Jaskier seriously thought that it would be. “Stay down already, or you’re going to hurt yourself,” the younger man steadied the Witcher as he saw his messy head swimming. 

Geralt only pushed him away on instinct so it ended up half-hearted. “What should I expect? Are you reasonably comfortable or does it hurt anywhere?” Jaskier never gave up on caring for him.

“My head. My stomach. My arms, legs, everywhere.”

“Nice. I could have done something with a headache, a stomachache even, but everywhere?” The bard chewed his lip in thought. “Are any of them the result of recent injuries?”

“No, I don’t think so.” 

“Of course because you’re too high on potions to know for sure,” Jaskier reasoned with himself, “does that mean I need to undress you to find out?” The bard hesitated with a hand hovering above the other’s body. 

“Just fuck off bard,” Geralt gave his opinion of that idea.

“So I take it we have no other choice, but to stay here for the night.” No answer coming to that made the bard think he should start setting the camp up on his own and look for food.

Tbc


	2. Set Pet

Chapter 2: Set Pet

“No,” Geralt’s voice was loud and firm even though he didn’t as much as open his eyes or move, “do not build a fire. It’s not safe around here. Who knows what creature you’ll attract while I can’t defend you.”

“Hm. Nice of you to think of my welfare. However, we might freeze otherwise and I’m kind of against that as well, just so you know.”

“I’m cold,” the Witcher bit out.

“You’re cold too? Then just let me set that fire,” Jaskier was confused by his companion’s logic.

“No, I mean I think I’m running a fever, that is why I’m shivering. You can lie down with me, use me as your fire and perhaps the cold will keep my temperature down.”

“Hm. If you think that’s a good idea..” The bard positioned his bedroll next to Geralt.

“Come closer,” the Witcher used an arm to slide him beside himself all of a sudden, bedroll and all. 

“I’ve still got things to do, like finding some water for the horses,” Jaskier complained.

“Do it later..” Geralt advised, leaning his chin against the younger man’s neck for warmth and comfort.

“Oh, fairies in the heavens, you really are burning up!” The smaller man noticed just from that little skin contact. 

“I told you that I could serve as a stove.” 

“Yeah, well, cold notwithstanding, I’d rather you didn’t qualify for that.”

“My body’s working through the toxin. It’s a good thing. Otherwise I would be dead.” He sounded half-hearted and weak though, “I just need some sleep to clear my head,” Geralt explained that away immediately as well.

“But what about having some food?”

“That would be a waste,” he winced and swallowed, turning paler at the mere mention of putting something into his stomach, “clothes are too tight,” he pulled at the straps holding his shirt together. 

“You don’t want to undress in this cold, do you?” Jaskier turned to look at him, astonished. 

“Help me,” Geralt fiddled with the buckle, head too hazy to concentrate, “I can’t sleep like this, it’s too uncomfortable,” he tried to convince the other to undress him. 

In different circumstances, Jaskier would have been glad for the promising view. He’s helped undress him for baths before and he always enjoyed the reveal of those abs, whether he knew them well by now or not. This time, he hesitated though, but eventually Geralt rubbing the sweat off his forehead convinced him. The Witcher needed cooling down. His sluggish movements were a concern too, he was too limp, too drowsy and too pale for Jaskier’s liking. His body was indeed radiating heat like a furnace, his breaths coming faster than the bard was used to. He shook his head, “I could come back with a healer by the morning. I’ve got enough coins to entice one out.”

Geralt grunted a sound of refusal firmly, “it will pass. Also, random healers won’t understand this predicament.” Only his mouth moved however, he was too exhausted to do anything else. 

“I could gather some herbs for you if you tell me what?”

“Your cold hands on me, those felt good,” the warrior ignored everything else. 

“Oh.” Jaskier placed a palm tentatively over Geralt’s chest. “I am actually rather freezing my butt off, but if it’s good for you...”

“Mmm, good,” Geralt reached out woozily to tug the other man down onto the ground beside him, though I would feel it better if you had less clothes on too.”

“No way. Maybe once I heat up a bit,” Jaskier placed his icy palms on the sweltering Witcher’s torso, smoothing down the hairs on his chest to cover more ground. How could his skin be so velvety when he was covered in scars? Geralt twitched at the feel of an entirely different temperature, but it ultimately made him more relaxed and his breathing deepened, which made him even more sleepy and disconnected from the world.

Jaskier pulled the bedroll round himself, still freezing, but a lot more comfortable in the warm Geralt cocoon. “Just for the record, it’s not normal to act as a furnace.” 

“Neither am I, normal, ever.” The older man grunted, his deep baritone resonating all through Jaskier’s body so up close. “But I’m not naked yet,” he complained.

“What? You want me to take your trousers off too?”

“You do know what naked means, don’t you? It will help me.”

“Oh..alright..” Jaskier stalled a little further before hesitantly reaching for the strings holding Geralt’s breeches up. The pesky things were being a bit stubborn in letting themselves come undone the way he was pulling at them way too gently in view of the warrior’s condition. Stripping him of the clothing item was even more of a challenge given the Witcher’s woozy state in which he wasn’t helping at all, leaving it up to the bard to manoeuvre his body back and forth for the feat. Jaskier gasped at the heat radiating off Geralt’s groins. It seemed that the warrior was quite right in asking him to get rid of everything that was keeping him warmer. “Oh, Geralt,” the human felt compassion for the other’s uncomfortable state, at the same time as having to gulp with the pull he felt towards that very body part all of a sudden. Driven by the same instinct, he complied with Geralt’s other wish to slide his frozen self against him, head against the mutant’s bare chest, hand around his waist. He settled in somewhat uncertainly, snapping his head up when he heard Geralt groaning, “is this alright?”

“Everything hurts,” the trained fighter panted with a grimace. 

Jaskier pulled away, but Geralt proved himself alert enough this time to pull him back, “don’t you dare. Everything hurts, but it’s not because you’re lying on top of me. Despite that, but it helps.”

“Can’t say it’s not comfortable getting warmed up by you,” Jaskier cosied up, “how are you even alive? No human could bear your temperature.”

“Igni. We learn to foster and withstand higher temperatures than this,” Geralt mumbled, nose in the bard’s hair. It was a familiar and comforting smell. 

“How about going to the icy river?”

“Can’t walk. And you are shivering. I hardly think the icy river would do you any good.”

“Hah! I’m not the one who is poisoned, remember?” Jaskier pressed himself against the other, for both their sakes, “I could make a travois to take you the..”

“Stop talking already and just let me rest,” Geralt moaned, having trouble keeping his eyes open. 

Tbc


	3. The Facts of Life

Chapter 3: Facts of Life

When Jaskier woke, the sun was half way up the horizon, its strong rays warming the blanket they were under. Geralt didn’t feel particularly warm any more and the shade of his skin returned to its normal form, if not a bit more pink than usual so the bard didn’t worry about his health too much at this point. Still, he decided it could be advantageous to let the Witcher rest a bit more, so he dared not to move. Becoming a little self-conscious, he thought about the other’s nakedness and the awkwardness it might cause once the older man woke and that’s when he became aware of the hardness pressing against his buttocks. Sure, he himself did wear his breeches, but the material felt awfully thin and nonexistent against the mighty sword attached to his bedfellow’s front. 

The realisation made him stiffen himself, which in turn made him embarrassed at the same time. At least he was turned the other way and getting away with his own erection unnoticed. Jaskier had to take a slow, grounding breath. He always had to struggle and not show the full scale of the feelings inside him, but now that they were in close bodily contact and with his heartbeat uncontrollably speeding, the feat was even harder. The bard moved on instinct and before he knew, the cock behind him pressed harder against his well positioned crack. More he didn’t dare to do because what if Geralt was in fact awake? Jaskier had to suppress a shiver of pleasure too.

Geralt however reacted with moaning sleepily with an arm around him to pull his companion closer. So Jaskier had to assume the Witcher would be half asleep at the very least and with someone else featuring in his dream. The hand didn’t stop on his waist, but rubbed along his arm and shoulder and went to settle at his chest. The younger man dared not to move a muscle. Would this be the moment the warrior realised he was with someone without womanly breasts? How sick was he still anyway? Especially since he didn’t seem to come to his senses yet. 

Notwithstanding Geralt’s still probably precarious health, the swollen shaft quivered into a firmer hardness behind Jaskier, making it clear that it had a mind of its own. The bard’s own cock matched it again till it became painful as it strained against its confines. Damn it. Without much encouragement at all, there was a definite chance he was going to cum. This accidental intimacy was too much, more than he could ever hope for. Jaskier swallowed and clenched his teeth. The previous night’s coldness had no hold on him anymore, not when he was blushing and sweating with lust. He felt his breeches moistening with warm precum as well, sticking against him. “Pleease no..” He panted, mortified. 

“Please what?” Geralt surprised him with sudden awareness, though judging from his voice he was still not fully awake yet. 

“Sweet Melitele in the bushes!” Jaskier jumped and scrambled, pulling the blanket with him as he sat and covered his gorging appendage. “Warn a poet!”

“What the hell are you doing?” The Witcher was now completely naked. Not that he was particularly bothered as he was used to it and was still somewhat groggy, but he did fix a glum gaze at his travel companion for the inconvenience. He either did not seem to notice or was not disturbed by his own erection. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jaskier handed back the blanket, turning away to further disguise the proof of his affections for Geralt. “But I thought you needed to cool down.”

“Not anymore I believe,” Geralt sat up to assess his own capabilities and state of health, “the toxin seems to be out of my system.” 

Jaskier had no intentions to watch him get dressed. Despite his embarrassment and his efforts to control his arousal, Jaskier’s unruly member continued to misbehave. Something he needed to take care of, “moment. I’m going to relieve myself,” he scrambled while alluring to needing to urinate. He ran a good way away, knowing that otherwise Geralt could guess what he was doing from the sounds. He pumped then quickly and firmly, not wanting to spend too much time away. Wanting to hurry of course didn’t make things better, his vision was blurring in the effort and these things had to take their own course anyway. 

The bard took a deep breath to ground himself and refocus. This time, he closed his eyes, recalling how Geralt’s muscles rippled when he washed himself in the stream. He imagined touching those muscles, following the scars with his fingers and tongue. He recalled how amazing it always feels to sleep beside him, the surprise of his erection against him this morning. If only he was allowed to touch those jewels..”Mmmm Geralt..” He moaned breathlessly, feeling himself closer to cumming. Jaskier enjoyed the sensations sending shivers through his body as he pumped himself faster, somewhat erratic in his rapture. He did not have enough self control to mute his ardent grunts. He let his head roll back and himself fall onto his weakened knees in the undergrowth. A stroke up and down with a little twist, then another and then his seed was spilling everywhere, down on his legs and onto the grass. He bit his lips as he rode it out, his movements slowing as he milked the sensation and its every time frame. He was weak and hot and full even though he hadn’t eaten since the day before. Spent, he pitched forward, only catching himself at the last moment, cock dangling again as it retreated to its soft form. But hey, he knew those boots. Oh no. 

Jaskier was hesitant and in denial as he peered up, but there were indeed the Witcher’s yellow eyes staring back at him up there, expression serious with a hint of dazzlement in his eyes. “Aahh!” The bard practically screamed in shock and scrambled to pull up his breeches, his chest heaving as much from startlement as from the exercise. He blushed a deep red that he also tried to hide under his hood and didn’t dare to look into the other’s eyes again, “but this is not what it looks like.” 

“Here we go. So it doesn’t look like you were calling out my name while pleasuring yourself?” The older man replied with an eye roll, “I came because I thought you were in trouble,” he turned.

“Wait, I can explain that.” Jaskier was shaking with nerves.

“Can you really?” Geralt folded his arms in a waiting stance. 

As threatening as that was, the male energy Geralt possessed whenever he did it, made Jaskier’s pants tight again. This time, he paled. What if the Witcher noticed! Why can’t he control his own body? “But it was you who started it,” the singer tried to delegate responsibility. 

“What? Come again?”

“You sported a huge erection all morning!”

“It’s the potions’ effect. They do that.”

“Well, you can’t expect a bisexual not to react to that! It’s only natural,” Jaskier still felt the need to hide under his hood however.

“Hmm..humans..” Geralt shook his head before heading back, “I’ll wait, but don’t hold us back too long!”

Jaskier let out the breath he had been holding. Phew. He dodged that by only a small fraction. Just as he had hoped, by the time he went back to camp, Geralt was packed up and tending to Roach as if nothing would have happened. If this was the outcome, perhaps taking tainted potions is not such a bad idea.

The End.


End file.
